they were walking down the private corridor, her hand still in his. The doors closed behind them, muting the swell of applause.
Satisfaction filled him. He was alone with his bride.
It happened so quickly Luisa was dazed as he led her through the labyrinth of corridors.
Only two things were real. Raul’s warm hand enfolding hers and the fact she was married. Even in the chapel it hadn’t seemed real. But hearing Raul tell their guests to enjoy their wedding hospitality, seeing the curiosity, the goodwill, even the envy on some of the faces staring up at her, it had suddenly hit.
She’d bound herself to this man. No turning back.
Her spurt of indignation over his stepmother dwindled. Now she felt only shock.
Raul’s hand tightened and sensation streaked through her.
No, she felt more than shock. A tiny bud of something curled tight inside. Something that kept her hand in his even when she knew she should withdraw it. Something that shortened her breath as Raul halted before an unfamiliar door then stood aside, waiting for her to precede him.
She stepped in then halted. She shouldn’t be here in his private apartments.
The door closed, silence enveloping them. Her breathing was overloud as she sought for something to say.
‘Come.’ A hand at her elbow propelled her forward. ‘You need food. You ate nothing at the reception.’
‘How do you know?’ For much of the reception they’d been on opposite sides of the room.
‘I watched you.’
She started, stunned at the idea of Raul concentrating on her all the time he’d chatted with dignitaries. The notion sent a ribbon of heat through her.
‘And you had just one glass of champagne.’
Her gaze melded with his. The kindling heat she saw made her look hastily away.
‘Maybe a bite of something would be a good idea.’ Then she’d go. She felt too aware of him beside her.
Aware of herself too, in a new, unsettling way. Of the swish of rich fabric around her legs as she moved. Of the tight clasp of the fitted bodice at her waist and breasts as she struggled to draw in oxygen. The fabric of her bra seemed suddenly abrasive, drawing her nipples to taut peaks.
She stepped away, only to stop again abruptly. Her eyes widened. ‘This looks … intimate.’ It sounded like an accusation.
‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters!’ Luisa bit her lip at her high pitched response. She sounded like a schoolgirl, not a mature woman.
A low table was drawn up before a massive sofa long enough for even Raul to recline full length. Velvet cushions made it look plush and inviting. A foil-topped bottle nestled in a silver cooler. Cold lobster lay sumptuously arrayed beside a bowl of fresh ice that cradled gleaming beads of caviar.
Luisa stepped back abruptly, only to find Raul behind her. She spun round, hands planted on his chest as if to ward him off. So why did her fingers curl into his jacket?
Hurriedly she retreated. ‘Is this someone’s idea of a joke? It’s like a clichéd set for a seduction.’
‘You don’t like lobster?’
‘Well, yes.’ She’d only tried it here in the castle and had loved every mouthful.
‘Or fruit?’ He gestured and she spied a platter of her favourite fruits: peaches and cherries and glowing navel oranges. Beside them was a bowl of fresh berries. Beyond that a basket of bread rolls—not the fine dinner rolls that graced the royal table but the malty whole-grain bread, thick with seeds, that she’d discovered when she’d invited herself to the kitchens. Traditional peasant fare, she was told. The best bread she’d tasted.
Luisa leaned closer. Beyond that were fat curls of butter, a board of cheeses and a silver bowl of cashews. Her favourites.
A familiar jar at the end of the table caught her eye. Mary’s spidery writing on the label: raspberry jam.
Luisa blinked hard, her pulse thudding. She reached out and stroked the thick glass jar of her aunt’s home-made jam, the jam she’d been helping make since she was a child. A taste of home. Luisa could barely believe he’d taken the trouble to ask Mary for this.
Raul hadn’t just clapped his hands and ordered a feast. This was just for her. Something special. His unexpected thought-fulness blindsided her.
‘How did you …?’ Her throat closed on emotion.
‘How did I know you prefer fruit to gateaux, cheeses to chocolate?’
Shaken, Luisa turned. He stood so close she saw again that sparkle of gold in his dark green gaze.
‘Because I notice everything about you.’ His voice was deliciously deep. ‘You are my wife now. I want you to be happy.’ The warmth in his tone made her tremble inside.
Not even to herself would she admit how those words eased her wounded soul.
‘But not like this.’ Her wide gesture encompassed the sofa, the crystal flutes, the whole seductive scene. ‘We agreed to a marriage of convenience!’
Was she trying to convince herself or him? From the moment she’d stepped into his chamber she’d had the delicious sense of walking on a knife-edge of excitement.
Raul said nothing. Yet his look heated her skin. His mouth was a sensual line of temptation she had to resist.
Luisa’s heart drummed an urgent tattoo. Part of her wanted nothing more than to touch him. To feel his power beneath her hand. That was why she forced her hands behind her back and kept them there.
Did he read her desire? His brilliant green eyes were hot with an inner blaze and Luisa realised how close she came to being singed.
‘We married for legal reasons.’ Her words were slurred because her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. ‘So you can inherit. Remember?’
‘I remember.’ His voice was low, resonating through her body to places she didn’t know existed before. ‘I remember how it felt to kiss you too. Do you recall that, Luisa? The fire between us? The need?’
She shook her head and her veil swirled between them. It snagged on the gold braiding that marched across his tunic, emphasising the breadth of his chest.
‘It wasn’t like that. You just …’
Her throat closed as he untangled her veil. His fingers were centimetres from her breast and she sucked her breath in, trying not to think of him touching her there.
But breathing meant movement. Her breast brushed his hand. She gasped as sensation pierced her and she trembled.
He didn’t look up but she saw his lips curve.
‘I’m not some
